


one by one by one

by WeeBeastie



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Dark John Silver, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Plotting, Post-Coital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 20:07:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21379843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeBeastie/pseuds/WeeBeastie
Summary: bite my tongue, bide my timewearing a warning sign[sinister little thing inspired by a tumblr prompt]
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	one by one by one

**Author's Note:**

> Me again with another prompt fill! The word for this one was ‘thrice.’ I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Rated M because it’s a little sexy and dark and I don’t know, there’s nothing explicit but it just has that feeling to it, you know?
> 
> Title and lyrics in the description cribbed lovingly from ‘you should see me in a crown’ by Billie Eilish. Some of the other lyrics are woven into the dialogue too!

“Mercy, Captain, please! You’ve all but slain me,” Silver pants, lying in Flint’s bed of an evening, sweaty with exertion and loose with pleasure. The captain has his head pillowed on Silver’s bare lower belly, his lips crimson and shining from his efforts. “I am nearly a dead man again.”

Flint snorts at that and tips his head just so to look skeptically up at Silver. “And how many times, pray tell, have you died? Most only have that experience the once.”

Silver closes his eyes and rests one large hand on the back of Flint’s head, cradling his skull.

“Well?” Flint asks pointedly a few moments later.

“I’m _thinking_,” he says testily, then opens his ocean eyes and peers down his own nude body at Flint. “Thrice.” 

“Explain,” Flint murmurs, turning his head to brush his stubbly cheek against Silver’s palm. The candles have burnt so low the room is nearly pitch black, but Silver can still make out the gleam of Flint’s eyes in the darkness. 

“The first was at my birth, if what I was told is to be believed - born blue and lifeless, feet first, revived by the skillful hands of the midwife,” he says, glancing down at Flint before fixing his gaze on the timbers of the ceiling. 

“The second,” he continues, “was when your crew boarded the ship I was on and took over. The man I had been died that day and I instead became John Silver,” he says, and though he isn’t looking at Flint he can feel him shift his body in reaction. It can’t be too much of a surprise to him to hear this - perhaps he’s more surprised that Silver would be so forthright about his deceit.

“The third,” he rumbles, tracing one finger along the whorl of Flint’s ear, “was when I ascended to the throne and became Long John Silver the pirate king. A rebirth, if you will - less a true and final death than a rising from the ashes of my former self, I suppose. A reincarnation.”

“Which one do you find the more difficult?” Flint asks, and then he’s moving off Silver, sliding up the bed to lie next to him and draping one thick arm possessively across his chest. His face hovers over Silver’s in the dark, his eyes so nearly shut Silver can barely make them out. The candles all burnt out at some point. What time is it? They’ve lost hours here together. It doesn’t matter. “Living? Or dying?”

Silver hears wheezing laughter for a moment before realizing he’s the one laughing. He doesn’t answer, just presses his mouth to Flint’s in a biting, bruising kiss. Becoming the king has felt to him how blood tastes in his mouth - rich, dark, dreadful and satisfying. 

“You horrid, beautiful creature,” Flint sighs when he pulls away from the tender violence of Silver’s kiss. 

“Mm, if you find me so beautiful this way, you should see me in a crown,” Silver rumbles, nosing along Flint’s jaw and nipping his earlobe. He expects Flint to laugh at that, tease him about his delusions of princely grandeur, but he doesn’t. 

“They’ll all bow to you,” Flint says after a murky silence has stretched between them almost longer than Silver can bear it. His voice is low, raspy, determined. “One. By one. By one.”

The heat in his words sends a shiver of lust up Silver’s spine. 

“Do you really think so?” he asks. 

Instead of speaking a reply, Flint kisses Silver hard enough that he tastes the heady salt and metal of his own blood where his lip splits.


End file.
